sunday, the day after saturday after friday, when i decided to go, on saturday, to the coast. now i am back and i’m not that worse for the wear, it is weird doing stuff when you don’t plan to, going somewhere when you don’t have a destination in mind. my brain i fear is not cut out for it, or at least not used to it, for it got a little overwhelming at times. maybe it is just the fact that it is a relatively new experience, and that i need to get used to it, but i definatly felt a little fazzeled the entire trip, especially this morning. okay to start. left saturday afternoon, and had it in my mind that i would head to the general area that talia and i had been on our first trip out this way. so i left about 1p (really do we need the ‘m’?) and put on some chemical brothers, the sort of music that is especially good for the beginning of trips because it moves and i move too. I got in town, out of town and toward the coast about an hour or so before I started seeing the ‘fresh local …’ signs. At this point i had a issue raised in my head. the thoughts of fresh, local and stawberries or cherries intrigued me, but i really felt compelled to keep a move on, for some reason i almost heard my parents answering my incessent nagging for shakes or fries, which is funny because i think it was not shy little me but my siblings who did the nagging and i just internally supported their efforts. no, it isn’t necessary and i have fruit and water in the car and can stop and make a sandwich if i’m really hungry, when i thought… wait a minute, i don’t have anywhere i need to go or be i can stop whenever i want. don’t you like my insinuation about what my parents real reason was? however by this point in the debate, i had already passed the stand or turnout or whatever, and my thoughts shifted. just keep moving fast enough and you won’t have time to indulge. thus it went strawberries, cherries, aspaigus all disapprearing at 63 miles an hour.
now it hits me, wait, i don’t have a place to be nor a time to not be there, why am i speeding is beautiful country? no excuses other than habit or flow of traffic to battle the three arguments for slowing a wee.
a. already given eg no agenda
b. i’m speeding iliigally and thus i could get a ticket, and
c. 55 mph, the speed limit, is said to be the most energy efficient speed, what i was told to be the reasoning for the ex facto national speed limit of 55 mph.
thus as i slowed to what now felt like a crawl, and tried to be okay with it and all the dirty looks i could imagin i was now getting, i noticed a sign. flea market ahead 3-9 saturday. see now these people are smart, putting the sign far enough ahead that the wife can suggest it, the husband to groan until it just sounds weird and still have time to safely stop, or in my case just enought time to decide. there were some men hanging another sign, probably for people like me, just as i turned. down the road i passed it by on the left and circled back around. parked once for a quick look said what am i doing and pulled out, only to be adimant about the fact that even though i wasn’t likely, from the first look, to find cool old gadgets for cheap, i had stopped in part as a demonstration to myself, and whomever else may have been watching, that i can take it easy and it will be okay. so then i pulled over again and this time turned off the car. i got out and walked over to realize that the gateless fence that surrounded the grounds, was blocked with a wraught iron tiered shelf thingy. are you open i asked. no, not until three. right i thought hence the sign 3-9. watch five after two. i went back to the car organized my stuff into the back, went to the port-o-let, ate a really ripe mango, and disposed of the peels. watch two thirty seven. of course in retrospect i realize that except for my age and maybe my spiked braclet and maybe my nose pierce… okay, maybe it is just the facts that i arrived an hour early and i’m a guy, but i looked like an antiques dealer trying to snag the best buys. now an assemblage of people had gathered in the area of the entrance and it looked somewhat like a line so i got up and walked over to join in. as the minutes ticked by, i resorted to watching the ‘late commers’, now ten till, pay the $2 manditory, suggested donation to park on the front lawn of a congregational member, as a fund raiser for the church. have you been here before asked a woman with her thirty somthing daughter. no, have you. no, is there something you’re looking for. not really i said. i just would never imagine my husband or son comming to one of these, let alone waiting patiently. a compliment really, i know it was at least intended that way, but suddenly my ’sunny day in portland’ sort of apperance was brought to my attention. luckily the line started moving and i was quickly in and out with a piano bench that seemed the most reasonably priced and desireable piece in the entire sale.